Today, being the penultimate packing day, I'm not doing anybody's prompt. Instead, a few lines jotted down while we were at the beach today. Ted had a sandia (watermelon juice) and I had a pepino (cucumber) water. And a shot of tequila.
Leaving La Manz
I devein the last of the shrimp,
discover the two eggs I need to coat them
have frozen and cracked which necessitates
a trip to town which means a two-minute
walk down a not-steep hill.
I buy two eggs, and rice from the pollo guys,
explain in fractured Spanish I only need rice this time
because I'm leaving tomorrow—
go down to Pedro's for cucumber water
take pictures of other people
taking pictures of themselves,
listen to the waves break over and over,
memorize the sound,
ponder how I've learned to love
this place in the world as I've loved others—
a road in Saskatchewan,
a path in Spain,
the world I return to tomorrow—
any world that welcomes.